Sheep in Wolf's Clothing
by IceFlake 77
Summary: 'I sounded inhuman. But I knew-true demons were not those with scaly green skin, but those with shiny silver armor, thick pride, and toxic ideas.' The story of Grendel's childhood up until his death.
1. Chapter 1

**Sheep in Wolf's Clothing  
**_**by: Lexicon**_

_My mother and I were there to witness it all that day._

_Witness…that was all we could do. We weren't able to do anything to save him. We didn't try to go and rescue him as __**they**__ came and dismembered him in the most barbaric way possible, a way I hadn't even imagined once in my life._

_And when it was happening right in front of me, I couldn't summon the courage to go and stop them…_

_That day, my mother held me as we hid in the shadows, helpless to do anything but watch. _

_She covered my ears with her shaking hands, wishing to block out the cries of agony and the jovial shouts of those monsters who were causing those cries. She covered my ears, wishing to block out the sounds of flesh ripping and of bones cracking and of blood being spilled._

_She pressed my face into her heaving breast, wishing to eliminate the smell of that copper liquid by letting me inhale her scent—the fresh smell of the fens, of home._

_She wished to block out the terrifying sounds, tried to will away the horrible smell, but all she did was cushion the blow. The sounds were only barely muffled, and the scent of spilt blood was too strong for my sensitive nose to ignore._

_After a period of time that felt like hours passed, the cruelty finally stopped. They had finally gotten bored of their little plaything—a dead body. They left, laughing and shouting, "Another monster killed! King Healfdene will be pleased!"_

_As their footsteps faded away, my mother and I were left still shaking in the darkness of the cave we were hiding in. She sobbed as her hand gently stroked the top of my head, but stayed cautious not to make a sound, too afraid that she would call their attention back to this place. _

_I turned my head to look at the entrance of the cave. The scene was painfully vivid. Some paces off, basked in the bright light of the moon, was a mangled corpse, barely recognizable. _

_My hands tightened their grip on my mother's cloaked arms and I looked away, not being able to stand the sight anymore. I leaned my face into her bosom and wailed. My voice at that moment frightened me. I sounded like an animal. I sounded inhuman._

But I'm not the inhuman one_, I thought bitterly. _**They** are. The men of Healfdene.

The men who killed my father.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Why are you doing this?" I yelled—screamed—at him almost desperately, my voice cracking. "Tell me why!"_

_That day, years after my father was murdered, I was the one cradling my mother's near-dead form in my arms. My hands felt like they were burning, melting away with each drop of my mother's blood that seeped onto them—boiling red rivers of life-giving lava that scorched and hurt my hands, pain brought about by the fact that I was too late to stop these same rivers from flowing __**out**__ of her body._

_His grip tightened on his weapon of choice: a large rock that easily fit into his palm—no sharp edges, just the calloused surface of the weathered item. It, too, slowly dripped with my mother's blood. A man of his build, a young man who was obviously accustomed to reverting to brute force when all else failed him (his newly dented, yet otherwise unused sword gleamed in the grass a few feet behind him), equipped with something as primitive as a rock…_

UNDIGNIFIED BARBARIAN!_ I held her even closer to me at the thought._

_When he failed to answer my question soon enough, I quietly asked another, my voice half-gone from grief. "What gives you the right to do this?"_

_He huffed, trying to make himself appear bigger (and my God, it was working, with the way he towered over us whilst I knelt on the ground, tending to my unconscious mother)._

**Drip.**_ The dark clouds in the sky parted and cast a soft glow of light onto the clearing we were at. So clearly, I could see it. So clearly, I could hear it, above the rustling of the leaves of the trees…_

**Drip.**_ He was drenched in my mother's blood, almost as if he had bathed in it. So much of it, there was, that little red droplets slid from his now-dull chain mail, and onto the ground._

Horrible, so utterly **horrible**…

"_Hail! I go by the name of Hrothgar, son of Healfdene—"_

'**Another monster killed! King Healfdene will be pleased!'**_ My eyes widened at the name, and I felt my blood run cold._

"—_and brother of Hergar, the King of the Danes!" he proclaimed loudly, proudly. "And I am doing this because it is the will of God!" He stepped closer._

"_WHAT WILL?" I demanded, my resolve breaking, as I lunged forward but couldn't strike him because of the precious cargo I held._

_He laughed in mirth, in amusement with the way I was responding. "Foolish demon!"_

Demon?

"_Demons, you all are, those born of Cain's blood!" The tone of his voice evolved by that point into something different, something cruel, something inhuman—_

_**-something demonic.**_

"_You demons do nothing but cause grief and suffering! Therefore, because I serve the good and just Lord, I will slay you—both of you—and spare your future victims, my brother's people, from what you may be planning to do to them!"_

"_WE WERE NEVER PLANNING TO DO ANYTHING TO THEM!" I cried out, desperate to make him understand that he was wrong, and that my family was being wrongfully punished._

"_**LIAR!"**__ he barked back at me. He took another step forward and raised the rock high above his head, preparing to strike. "I SHOULD KILL BOTH OF YOU RIGHT NOW!"_

_At that moment, I didn't know what had taken over my body. I couldn't control myself. My body became a slave to a primitive desire that rang out in my head right then._

**Kill him.**

_After gently placing my mother's body down on the ground, mindful of the cracks in her now-deformed skull that this man, this __**barbarian**__ had made, I stood before him and, without thinking, leapt forward and did the first thing that came to mind:_

_I latched onto his raised arm with my sharp teeth._

_It was at that moment that I received my first taste of human blood, the moment that warm liquid filled my mouth in spurts and jerks, indicating that I had penetrated a vein, the moment that he let out an incomprehensible scream of exactly how agonizing it was._

_That was the moment I felt powerful for the first time in my life, that I felt like I could do anything I wanted because I had the ability to cause another person so much pain…_

_I placed one of my hands on the shoulder of his free arm and the other on his side. And with all the strength I had, powered by the anger and the frustration and the grief I was feeling at that moment, I started to pull my head back, my teeth deep in his muscles._

_He screamed, louder and louder, as I, through my mouth, felt tissues and sinews and veins slowly tear away from each other and from his shoulder joint._

Kill him, kill him, kill him! Rip him apart limb from limb in revenge for what he did to your mother! **KILL HIM!**

_And I aimed to do just that._

_But at that moment, pain descended onto my head. I held my ground against it, but it came repeatedly. Again and again, the pain knocked into the back of my cranium, and spots appeared in my vision, but I refused to let go. On the contrary, I sunk my teeth in even more. Harder and harder, he brought whatever he was holding down and the harder I bit in return._

_Then the pain became unbearable. He struck me with (probably) all the strength he had and I finally pulled back to let loose a loud wail at the sensation of my skull cracking._

_He seized the moment and pushed me away by landing a well-aimed kick at my stomach. My strength and power deserted me and I stumbled back and became reduced to a crumpled, bleeding heap of flesh and bones on the ground next to my injured mother._

_He unceremoniously let go of the rock, now covered in the blood of me and my mother, and it made a crunching sound as it crushed the blades of grass it had been dropped on._

_And with that, he turned around and fled into the thick forest, using the shadows that the trees provided to his advantage._

_My hands balled up into fists, unintentionally ripping twin patches of grass from the ground, at that. I wanted to chase him, __**that cowardly barbarian**__, and taste more of his blood on my tongue, proof that I was causing him pain, but my body refused to move._

_And that was the last time I was human._


	3. Chapter 3

_This was the place where it happened._

_I stood and stared at the clearing, at the exact spot where that fateful incident transpired only months ago. The grass had thickened and weeds had grown and flowers had appeared and pollen had filled the air, but all of that could not mask the scars of that night._

_The blood stains were still there on the grass; the tree branch I had to break in order to clear a path and stop Hrothgar from delivering that final, death-giving blow was still there, still splintered at the end, and now had curled, brown leaves; the sword that he obviously never came back to collect was still there, slowly losing its luster…_

…_and the rock._

_I stepped further inward, slowly making my way to the center, the exact location of where it happened. I looked down at the ground and saw the rock he had used to terrorize what was left of my small family._

_The blood on it had dried and left vein-like stains, an intricate spider web that gradually became a giant spot of maroon on a rough, gray surface._

_I shivered as I remembered how much pain that simple item brought, both physical and mental. I remembered how much my head seemed to want to split apart after it had been cracked and dented._

But,_ I reasoned, _what I feel is nothing compared to what Mother must be experiencing_. My cranium had only been partially damaged, but Hrothgar obviously went all out on her, as the shape of her head was no longer the way it was before, and it was only by a miracle that she was still alive._

_At the start, she was always moaning and crying out in pain and would do so until exhaustion took over her form and unconsciousness swept her into merciful, merciful sleep. At times, I believed that this sleep was simultaneously cruel, too, as she would always, inevitably wake up from it, exposing her to another day of endless torture, and the vicious cycle would repeat…_

_These days, she no longer wailed. She kept silent now. At first, I was ecstatic because I thought that it meant she was recovering, but I had felt like my heart had been wrenched out of my chest upon realizing that it wasn't because she was recovering, but because she had grown used to it already. She no longer knew what it was like to __**not **__be in pain._

_My hands curled into fists at my sides, my sharp nails digging into my palms and drawing blood._

_I hated him, hated him with every fiber of my being. Many a time had I craved to venture into his village in the dead of the night and devour him, the cruel and barbaric man that caused my mother so much pain that made it seem like it would've just been better if she had died so she wouldn't have to suffer like she did anymore, but I restrained myself. I restrained myself for Mother._

"_Mother, please!" I practically begged of her as I tried to remove her hand's grip from my arms; it was extremely strong, which was ridiculous and unbelievable because of her condition. "I need to do this!"_

"_My son, I implore you…" she answered almost silently, as her injury made doing __**anything**__ unbearably tormenting. "Don't…if you do, things will only get worse…"_

"_If I __**don't**__ do something, they're just going to keep on doing it! They're going to keep on coming back until they manage to kill you and me!"_

"_Please…listen to me…" her grip tightened ever-so-slightly, and I found myself quieting down to do just that. "Humans…They misjudge us…because of the way we look…"_

_I had to stop myself from saying that it was exactly the reason why I wanted to rip Hrothgar apart._

"_These kinds of things…they will happen numerous times…and it's useless…to become like this…every single time that it does…" She cleared her throat a little, which, I was sure, brought her a new world of pain, and continued, "It will only…help prove their foolish visions…of us being monsters…"_

_I couldn't contain myself. "I know that! You've told me that ever since I was a child! But look at what they have done to you, Mother! I can't forgive them for this! They already took away Father, and now they're trying to take you away as well! I won't let them—"_

_With her weak, raspy voice, she interrupted me, and I could've easily ignored her and carried on with my enraged rant, but chose not to. "It is written in the Bible that…when you are struck on your right cheek…you should turn and offer the other…"_

"_How can you tell me to just sit here and pretend that nothing happened?" I shouted back, and felt my chest tighten when she flinched from the volume._

_After regaining herself, though, she stated simply, as if it were the most obvious fact ever to be devised, "Because you're above that, Grendel."_

_At that, my mind stopped, and she took the opportunity to rest her tired vocal cords for a bit, inhaling and exhaling deeply, as I could only stare at her as I realized that…_

_She was probably right. If I pushed through, I would only be giving those filthy humans justification for their actions. I'd prove their opinions of my race right, and they'd be scared, but then the ones with more desire to prove themselves as men than to prove themselves as human beings would come and hunt us down until every single one of us fell…_

_I couldn't bear doing that, I couldn't bear the thought of being the cause of such madness._

_And it dawned onto me that it wasn't that my mother had gripped me in a vice-like hold, but that I didn't have enough strength, enough concentration, enough __**willpower**__ to fight back. My mind wanted to attack Hrothgar, but my heart and my body disagreed._

"_Oh, my dear child…" she let go of me and slowly stroked the hair away from my face and brushed away the tears that I wasn't even aware had formed. "My dear Grendel…"_

"_Mother…" I said, barely above a whisper, with a shaky voice. All the psychological pain and pressure and angst had finally gotten to me, and a prominent sense of hopelessness overwhelmed me._

_And then I couldn't handle it anymore._

_I broke out in sobs and landed into her welcoming embrace. I cried loudly into her chest like I did the day Father died, careful not to let my developing horns touch her chin. Her arms around me were eager to console and I felt her hand coming through my tangled mane of hair._

"_Shhh, we will get through this, Grendel…I promise you…" A moment of silence went by before she said, "Now…rest…"_

_I sniffed and nodded shallowly to show my agreement as I let my eyes close and my mind wander into the world of dreams, where nothing could harm me and my mother, coaxed into sleep by her warmth, the gentle touch of her hand on my head, and by the soft, sweet notes of a lullaby that came from her mouth…_

_I shook my head from side to side, effectively escaping the memory, as I remembered where I was and what I was doing._

_Stealing one last glance of the horrific stone that brought me so much pain and of the slowly rusting sword, shimmering dully from its spot in the midst of the thickening grass, I slowly reversed a few steps, then turned around fully in order to leave the clearing, and the bad memories it held, behind._

_Mentally, I re-listed the medicinal plants I needed to gather in the forest for Mother._


	4. Chapter 4

_A few more months passed, and I found myself in the woods once more, for the same reason that I came here for everyday: to gather medicine for Mother._

_It got tedious sometimes, I had to admit—to be doing this. Aside from gathering the plants, I had to make the medicine itself at home, grinding, pounding, mixing…Often, I found myself being bitter that I had to go through all this effort while those lazy humans had people whose occupations were doing that for everyone else all day long in their hamlet._

_Tedious as it was, I rather enjoyed going to the forest every day. It was the only time of the day that I was alone, the only time of the day I allowed myself to let Mother rest without my company, trusting the creatures of the mere to protect her if the need would ever arise. I used this time to contemplate on the many things that I didn't have time to think about when I was with her._

_My thoughts these days basically ran around the idea of survival. No longer did I think about revenge for my parents' suffering (and in the case of Father, death). The only thing I cared about now was getting Mother to heal faster so we could relocate homes._

_Whenever I thought about that, I had to constantly remind myself that moving away would not be a cowardly act, but one that would prevent tragedies similar to the ones we've experienced from ever happening again. If they didn't know where we were, we would be safe, and we would be happy._

_I crouched next to a patch of mushrooms that were growing underneath a majestic tree. Aside from medicine, I also had to gather food whenever I came here, and our meals usually only consisted of mushrooms, berries, nuts, and fish from the lake we lived in. Any normal person would die from eating the fish from there, but we were accustomed to the disgusting taste; it seemed that no matter how fresh the fish were, they always tasted rotten. I'd always get a hankering for meat, but ever since the incident with Hrothgar, I had given up hunting, and I refused to get near enough to their village to steal a sheep, with the risk that they could kill me._

_Just as I was about to lean down even further to pick out the mushrooms that were safe to eat, I stopped abruptly then immediately pressed my back against the rough bark upon hearing the voices of incoming humans._

_Closer and closer, they approached the area I was at, and I swallowed shallowly, willing for my heart to stop thundering in my chest._

_I wasn't afraid of them, per se, but rather, I was afraid of what would happen if they were to find me. I no longer wanted to harm humans. I only wanted to carry on living as a living being. I didn't wish to fight them, I didn't wish to harm them, but the same thing could not be said for them. I knew that if they found me, they would immediately confront me with the intention of exterminating me._

_If I died, who would protect Mother?_

"_Please, my lord! It's unsafe to be walking around the forest at dusk!" said one man, worried and anxious. "All kinds of things lurk here, ready to prey on humans like us!"_

_That statement pulled at my heart. How unjust it was for them to generalize and assume things like that._

"_My dear man," another voice, more confident and more arrogant, went. "How do you expect me to be the ruler of this kingdom, if I am afraid of entering the less explored of my territory?"_

_Royalty? How rare for a man of royal blood to come to the forest with only an aide by his side. The last one I had encountered who had done something as insane as that was Hrothgar—_

"_Be reasonable, King Hergar! You're—"_

"_**Hail! I go by the name of Hrothgar, son of Healfdene, and brother of Hergar, the King of the Danes!"**__ I couldn't contain the gasp that escaped me as the memory came back._

This is…Hrothgar's brother?

_Sometime later, the aide was finally able to convince Hergar that they ought to leave, and as the light of their torch became softer and softer, I debated whether or not I should go with them._

_One part of me said not to go. I would only bring myself more pain by doing so, and I would tempt myself to do something I promised myself and Mother I wouldn't do, for both our sakes. _

_The other side of me questioned if it was really such a bad idea, to lose myself for only one night. It wouldn't be taken against me, it reasoned. It would be considered something I did in the heat of anger, in a moment of insanity. And this was all theoretical, a very abstract reasoning to a situation that would only have a chance of happening. My going there would not immediately mean I would have to kill somebody, of course._

_With that reasoning, I quickly followed them, darting between trees, hiding in the shadows, not making a single sound._

_I grew wary as they entered the village. This would be the last chance for me to go back to the mere and pretend that all of this had never happened. If I entered, I would be exposing myself to things and people that would jog up my memory of past events, and I would risk succumbing to the primal desire to murder someone out of anger and grief if that ever happened. All the effort I put into stopping myself from invading this small village to devour Hrothgar would be wasted._

_I considered this for a moment, and then decided that I didn't particularly care anymore by this point. I didn't even know why I was doing this, why I was following them, but I felt that it was something that I needed to do. So I snuck in behind them._

_I grit my teeth as my brows furrowed and my eye started to twitch. I seethed in anger as I found out that Hergar was a father._

_I peered in through the window of the dining area of his house, the biggest house in the village, and saw that he was supping with his family and friends. He laughed loudly as a man seated across him told an entertaining story. His wife sat demurely next to him, and his son was also seated on his other side._

_As the man finished his story, Hergar told one of his own, of how he defeated an entire troop of men by himself and claimed victory for his father Healfdene, back when he was king. Everyone listened in admiration and told Hergar's son, Herward, to grow up to be just like his father._

_Their beaming, wide smiling faces irritated me to no end, and I couldn't describe the ultimate sense of injustice I was feeling at that moment._

_If we had been human, we would've been like that. Mother, Father, and I would've been as happy as they were. We would've lived in a warm, comfortable house. We would've worn thick clothes that weren't tattered and torn. We would've slept in soft beds and eaten delicious food, and we would've been given whatever we needed by a kind-hearted king whose men didn't try to kill us each time they encountered us._

_We would've still been together as a family._

_But just because we were different, just because we didn't look like them, just because we didn't age the same way, just because we weren't sub-level murderers like they were, we had to endure the hardest lifestyle anyone could imagine._

_I begged of the Lord to tell me where the justice in that was._

_After everyone had gone to sleep, I took my first two victims._

_Silently, I crawled into the King's bedroom, where he and his wife were sleeping soundly, and I followed my instincts from there—I leaned down and tore off a chunk of King Hergar's flesh with my teeth._

_Everything that happened since that was a blur. I remember there was screaming, lots of it, both male and female; there was a lot of blood, and my skin felt slick from being drenched in it; there was a lot of chewing involved, and my jaw started to ache after I had consumed the first body, but I had to go and eat the woman as well, for her screams were getting on my nerves._

_And before I knew it, I had just eaten two humans. All their skin, their hair, their bones, their blood, their clothes, their muscles…all of it was inside of me, being churned inside my stomach. As I stared at the now empty and bloodied bed, I licked my lips and realized that I had never felt so full and sated in my entire life._

_The door burst open and I saw the face of Hergar's son, who was obviously scared to death from the scene and from me._

"_D-DEMON!" was all he yelled out, pointing at me. I had half a mind to eat him too because of that._

_I smirked and told him, "Young Herward, you definitely do not want to grow up to be like your father." I leapt through the window; ran out of the village, unnoticed as the torches and only started being lit as people had only started rising from their slumber at that moment; and into the shadows of the night._

_On top of a hill some ways away, I watched my handiwork. I could hear urgent screaming, warriors donning their armor for battle, and civilians mourning for their king and their queen. It was oddly fulfilling, to finally be the one to instill fear in people._

_A breeze blew by and I shivered. Why was it so cold, so much colder than usual? I looked at my hands, which were feeling the coldest, and my eyes widened at the sight of blood on my hands._

_I traced the trail of blood up my arms with my eyes and saw that my clothes were also damp with it. My mouth felt slimy and I could taste the metallic remnants of my victims in my mouth._

_I had just eaten King Hergar and his Queen._

_And then it hit me. The thing I had just done, it was clearly enough to make anyone consider me a demon, even myself. My stomach lurched, and I wanted to puke out everything that I had just eaten. I slapped a hand over my mouth to prevent this from happening right then and there, and I immediately turned around to run away._

_Deeper and deeper, I ran into the woods, and I didn't stop until I reached a space with no trees and thick grass. There, I dropped on all fours and started to vomit, forcing everything out through my throat again. And even when I was aware that my stomach was empty already, I continued to hack._

_Feeling weak and weary, with my vision blurred from the tears that had formed, I took deep breaths and sat up on the heels of my feet._

What have I done?_ I asked myself, staring at the pale full moon that peeked out from between dark clouds._

_Something glittered a few feet away from me and I turned my head to look at it. I had the urge to empty my stomach again as I realized where I had ended up._

_But I stopped myself from doing so. After regaining myself, I stood up and my knees almost buckled from the effort of supporting my weight. I hobbled over to the sword and picked it up._

_It was probably an unwise thing to do, I supposed, but I needed something to remind me of this night. I needed something to remind me never to repeat what happened on this night ever again._

_With blood dripping off my form, I went back to the lake, bringing with me the sword that used to belong to Hrothgar, which I planned on hanging up on the wall of our home._

Am I really, truly a demon?


	5. Chapter 5

BE SILENT!

_I clutched my head in an ever tighter grip at that, ripping a few strands of hair out of their roots._

So noisy, so noisy, so noisy, so terribly **noisy**…

"_SHUT UP!" I yelled at the village in the distance. "BE QUIET!" _

_No one could hear me, of course, being so far away, and so loud. I covered my sensitive ears, trying to block out the sounds with sheer willpower alone, but it wasn't working. It was almost as if the more I tried to ignore them, the louder their laughter, their shouting, their celebration became._

_It was unbearable._

_And the reason they were celebrating only made the entire situation all the worse._

"_Glory to King Hrothgar and to Denmark!" I heard a man cry out, probably Hrothgar's general Aechere. "Because of his leadership and admirable bravery, our kingdom has triumphed yet again in battle!"_

_At that, loud cheering erupted from the masses, and it made my head throb._

"_BE SILENT, YOU MONSTERS!" I shouted yet again in vain, now pressing my forehead against the soft grass beneath me, sobbing from the frustration of not being heard and the pain of loud sounds penetrating my ears._

_Monsters, that's what they all were in that superfluous mead-hall. Herot was what Hrothgar had decided to name it after he had it built. He intended for it to be a place of celebration, where warriors came to get drunk and engage in all kinds of debauchery._

_They celebrated and got drunk and engaged in all kinds of debauchery every single day. But it was always particularly lively whenever they had won a new battle._

_And this sickened me to no end._

_Heartless, cruel, barbaric-! My breath came in short pants and gasps as the cheering became louder and louder._

_They were celebrating a battle, the deaths of hundreds of other men. They didn't care that these people had families, that they had so much more to do in life, that they might not even have wanted to fight in the first place. They were celebrating endless amounts of blood being spilled, heads being chopped off, organs being fatally pierced._

"_EAT, DRINK, AND BE MERRY, MY FELLOW DANES!" I heard King Hrothgar's deep voice resonated throughout the hall, and I closed my hands even tighter over my ears, but to no avail. "CELEBRATE, FOR WE HAVE WON! CELEBRATE, FOR WE ARE VICTORIOUS!"_

_The hall was then filled with deafening cheers and I tried to curl myself into a ball, willing the sounds away, as it hurt so much that it seemed to be cracking my head open._

"_**BE QUIET!"**__ I shrieked, louder and shriller than any of my previous shouts. But it didn't stop. No one paid attention. No one listened._

_No one ever listened to me._

_Later that night, when all in the village was silent and dark, I made my way toward the mead-hall._

They disturbed me with their insensitive and incessant noise. And now I will do the same_, I told myself. I let myself smile impishly as I opened the surprisingly open door and stepped inside, seeing all the half-unconscious warriors, sweaty and dirty with grime and muck from the battlefield. _And I know just the way how.

_Thirty this time. That was the number of people I devoured. And just like last time, I felt fulfilled upon finishing. I came out of Herot, covered in the blood and spare scraps of flesh of thirty different men, and I stared up at the moon. It was full again._

_I didn't have the time to stare to long at it, though, as the village had started to awaken. Calmly, confidently, I made my exit, but stopped momentarily to take a look at Hrothgar's house which stood next to Herot._

_It was lit inside and I could see the man himself staring out the window, directly at me, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, not being able to believe what had just happened._

_I allowed myself a smirk and called out at him, "Pleasant evening, __**King**__ Hrothgar! May you have many more to come!" Cackling, I ran out of the hamlet, leaving chaos in my wake._

_And this time, I didn't even feel the slight bit remorseful about it._

_For the next twelve years of my life, this is what I did every single night._

_It was what I was born to do._


	6. Chapter 6

_That idiotic king Hrothgar should really put more importance in ensuring his men's safety than the beauty of his kingdom,_ I think as the cold night breeze caresses my skin.

Pushing the heavy oak door inward, I let the pale light of the moon behind me pour into the grand hall Herot, revealing the forms of young, muscular men underneath their blankets made of animal skins and furs. Immediately, I shudder from the power that rushes through me upon the sight.

_Look at them, sleeping like innocent little babes. Clueless, unaware of the fate any one of them may be receiving tonight. _I lick my lips. _The fate that I myself will bring onto them._

I step inside, not bothering to close the door behind me. No one will be stupid enough to attack me, Grendel the Monster, as they have become accustomed to calling me, from behind.

Placing my hands on the floor, I stalk forward, like a true animal, searching for my prey on this lovely night. All of them look so tasty, so delicious, it's hard to decide.

I settle on a particularly young-looking warrior. He hasn't gone to battle, not even once, I can tell from his face, unmarred by scars and blemishes. His chest rises and falls with each relaxed breath he takes, and I take note that he is only mildly intoxicated from mead, the unmistakable smell of honey invading my nostrils. I lick my lips once more as my mouth waters.

_Perfect._

I start with his neck, so he won't be able to scream from the pain. I then take one last look at his face. _So beautiful, _I think before it, too, starts going down my throat. I devour the rest of his body hurriedly and in no particular order. His blood is sweet, perhaps from the mead he drank earlier, and his flesh is firm and chewy.

As I eat, I think of the way his life ended before he was able to do anything with it. It makes me feel noble in a twisted way. Ending his life now would mean he wouldn't be able to witness the atrocities of battle. I was sparing him from seeing that.

_And also, to save him from becoming a monster…_

And when it is over, and I'm left to lick the remnants of my kill from my fingers, I turn around and face the rest of the warriors that surround me, still asleep.

_I want more._

I move further into the hall, scrutinizing each one of them until I find one that I know will be able to satisfy my hunger. I crawl closer and closer to him until I'm hovering above him, close enough to feel his breath against my face.

Unlike the previous one, this man seems to have fought as many battles as many times that I've been called a monster. He is very good-looking, despite his face being lined with an endless number of scars. He is a lot more muscular than the one I had just eaten, which I know will make for a very fulfilling treat.

I shudder at the thought of eating this man, barely being able to contain my excitement.

I lean down to bite at his neck, the same way as I did with the other one, but I stop and cry out as excruciating pain trails up my arm from my wrist. I glance at the source of the pain and see a rough, calloused hand gripping it.

I look down again into the face of the man beneath me and a shiver of fear runs down my spine as I peer into his piercing, blue eyes.

I try to leap away, but his hand keeps me in place. Slowly, he rises into a sitting position, and further, until he is standing, and I have no choice but to follow his actions. With my free arm, I attempt to hit his face, hoping that my sharp talons will be enough to make him let go, but he grips the hand that comes at him with his own.

My stomach lurches.

Before I realize it, I am screaming. His grip on my fingers tightens and tightens impossibly, until I feel my bones fracture and my flesh go limp from the lack of support. After he crushes my fingers, he lets go of my hand, but I continue to scream.

I try to escape, writhing, wiggling, biting at the hand that still grips my wrist, but he is unaffected and around us, the other men start to awaken. They draw their swords and I am comforted by the sole fact that they cannot harm me with their childish weapons.

They seem to realize that, too, after they gather around us and start to take their turns slashing ineffectively at me. It's a small, short-lived victory as they gaze at each other in confusion when they realize that they can't even touch me.

It's at that time that I feel it again. Pain, unbearable pain, rushing up my arm that this man still has in his hand, and I resume screaming. His strength is insane, and unmatched. I've never met a human such as him. No one has ever made me feel so much pain.

I feel tears run from the corners of my eyes and down my cheeks.

In that moment, I don't feel the pain in my wrist anymore because it's no longer there. Blood pours out of my body from where my right arm used to be, and my vision darkens from the sheer amount of it that has been lost. I stagger and stare, wide-eyed, at my arm, no longer a part of myself. It's hanging uselessly, with what used to be my wrist still in the warrior's hand. I take in gulps of air in between my wails, but none of it stays in my lungs.

_This is too much. I can't breathe…!_

"Monster!" My head snaps up to look at his face, the handsome face I was admiring just a moment ago when I thought I would be feasting on the epitome of a man tonight.

He tosses my arm toward me, and it rolls a bit until it stops at my feet. I nearly faint from the sight.

"Remember this!" He shouts. "Remember the name of the one by whose hand you were slain! I am Beowulf the Bear, warrior from the Land of the Geats!" He pauses before shouting in an even louder voice, "Now, begone, and make sure that none of your kin ever come and wreak terror upon this land again, lest they wish to die by my hand as you did!"

I turn around as fast as I can, which almost makes me fall over, and flee. As I pass between all the warriors to reach the door that is still open, they rejoice and throw insults at me.

"The Monster has been slain!"

"Look at him—running away like a frightened pup!"

Even when I've put a safe distance between me and Herot, I continue to run. As I do, I hear a unanimous chant of the name of the savior of the Danes.

"BEOWULF! BEOWULF! BEOWULF!"

I don't stop until I've reached the fens that are far away from the village, where I can no longer hear their voices cheer for their new hero from a foreign land.

My knees buckle and my body crashes onto the grassy ground beneath me. I feel my blood continuing to flow out, and I can't do anything to stop it. My eyesight flickers and darkens as my wound grows numb. But I can't stop, I simply can't.

If I do…If I do…

Who will protect Mother?

"Mother…" I murmur as I struggle to stand up once more, my left hand acting as tourniquet for the stump of where my right arm used to be. "Mother…"

_I have to go back!_ is the only thought going through my head and, ignoring the pain, I make my way back home.

Upon my return, Mother takes one look at my miserable state and immediately rushes forward to tend to me.

"Grendel, my son!" she cries out, catching me as I let myself fall to the ground. She sits and cradles my head, smoothing my hair back, away from my forehead, damp and sticky with sweat. "Who did this to you?"

"Beowulf…the Bear…" I whisper back before my eyesight flickers once again and I black out.

The next few days are spent in agony and fighting a losing battle. Mother discovered a new plant of the lake that numbs pain in the entire body and she lets me drink a solution made from this every time she can make it.

At first, I still had hope. I hoped that I would survive this and it would hopefully help me change myself for the better, to revert myself back into a human being. But…it obviously wasn't going to be the case.

Where is the justice in all this, my Lord?

With each day that passes, I'm getting weaker and weaker, and I can now barely stay awake for more than a few minutes. I sleep the day away often and wake up only due to the pain-numbing medicine reaching the end of its effects.

As the time of my staying awake shortens, I realize that I am nearing the end of my life.

I use these short moments to tell Mother things I haven't told her before, both deep and shallow.

"Mother…" I tell her. "When I die…please don't…don't go after him…"

She squeezes my hand to indicate that she knows who I'm talking about, but she remains silent.

"I don't…want you to…get hurt. I want you…to live peacefully…like what you've…always told me." I grimace. "I'm sorry, Mother…I'm sorry for…not listening to you…If I did…I wouldn't be in this situation…"

"Shhh, be quiet now, my dear Grendel…" she answers and uses her hand to put my eyelids down. "You must rest now," she says before singing that same lullaby from before, the one she's sung to me since I was a child.

Her voice starts to fade away, and I can feel myself dying. Vaguely, I wonder if I will be raised up to Heaven or sentenced to Hell. My heart quakes when I realize that I'll probably be spending eternal life in the inferno with Satan.

It's a price I have to pay for everything I have done.

Now, all I will have to do is wait for the other demons of this world. Hrothgar, Beowulf, Hergar, all the people I have killed…I will be seeing them in the underworld soon enough.

The only people I hope to never meet while I'm down there are Mother and Father. I became this for them, I became a monster for them so that they wouldn't have to do it themselves…If they do end up in Hell with me, all my efforts will have been for nothing…

Her song finally finishes, and softly, so softly, she kisses me on my forehead. I feel tears drip onto my face, and she says, "Fret not, my son, for I, your mother, will avenge your death…"

To have her do that is to have her die and go to Hell, I know it well, and my heart sinks.

Where is the justice in all of this, my Lord?

* * *

**AUTHOR'S [MAJOR MAJOR] CHENES:**

**1. Big thank you to Bela, who made the summary of this story(I suck at making those LOL)**

**2. Hahaha, this is actually very funny. XD You see, I already had this idea milling around in my head for quite some time. Then we suddenly get this project in English class, see, to dramatize the three battles of Beowulf. By some strange stroke of luck, my group got the first battle (YAY!), so I was motivated to finish this story because, well, a whole group of people were depending on me...XD In the end, I wound up playing Grendel since I knew the story the best. 8| AND THEN EXTREMELY AWKWARD MOMENTS WITH BEOWULF HAPPENED ON-STAGE. (Hi, Bagbag :D)**

**3. HUMONGOUS THANK YOU TO ZARA. Dude, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made this in the first place. :D (It all started in Grade 5... :P) BTW, Zara made the drawing that inspired all of this. It's here in my livejournal (remove the spaces): **http : / ileikeggz2 . livejournal . com / 10587 . html

**4. If you want to read the private version (the last part-INVOLVING BEOWULF-is different...IYKWIM), PM me. :D Either here or at my LJ account.**

**5. Thank you so much for reading! ^^ Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it~~ Please leave me a review because that makes me warm and fluffy on the inside~~**


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